Dead or Alive
by REwrites24
Summary: Bounty hunting isn't the first choice on Remus Lupin's ideal careers list, but it pays the bills. He's one successful hunt away from paying off his debts and retiring for good when he comes across the bounty of a lifetime. RL/SB.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** None for this part.**  
Notes:** I've wanted to write this fic for three years now and my muse is finally letting me! I'm hoping I can put out an update once a week. Future chapters will be higher rated. Non-magic AU, modern American setting with a bit of a western twist. Inspired by "Lay Me Down" by the Dirty Heads and influenced heavily by my love of Cowboy Bebop. Obvious references to Bebop are obvious in this bit.

* * *

**Prologue**

Every bounty hunter worth his salt knows The Hogshead is the only bar worth scouting for a hit west of Wichita. It's a shithole, filled with furniture that has seen too many violent scuffles and too few soapy sponges; but the liquor is good, and there is always a woman or two eager to turn a few tricks for the hunter flush from his recent success. It's also the best place to find the most lucrative bounties before they hit the main-circuit.

Remus nods to the bartender as he passes and makes his way purposefully across the sticky floor to The Board. Anticipation is curling somewhere in his gut. He's one successful hunt away from retiring from the business for good. How many twenty-nine year olds get to say that? He just needs to land one more fat bounty.

The Board is littered with yellowing paper full of names and faces not really worth his notice. He has enough money stored away. Enough to eat and keep his car fueled up. He can afford to be picky right now. Remus lights a cigarette and cocks his head, eyes narrowing as he surveys the newer posts until he catches sight of number that tugs the beginnings of a smile from the corners of his lips. He skims the notice for the relevant details.

**WANTED**

**DEAD OR ALIVE**

**SIRIUS BLACK**

**13 counts of murder**

**Considered armed and dangerous **

**$500,000 REWARD**

A handsome, smiling young man with dark hair and eyes like steel is pictured beneath the bolded writing. Remus quirks a brow, sucking more nicotine into his lungs. There is something startling about the piercing grey in the man's eyes that sends a thrill down Remus's spine. He flips his phone open and punches a quick text message with the name. Less than a minute later he hears the beep of a response.

_T: Nice! I'll send the info to your email 2night :)_

He taps a quick 'thank you' and turns his attention back to the notice. The picture of Sirius Black stares back at him, his lips curved in a curious smile. Remus lifts his hand, making a gun with his thumb and the two fingers still hold the cigarette, and takes aim.

"Bang," he says softly. He takes another drag before stubbing his cigarette out on the worn tabletop beside the notice board and turning to leave. "See you around, pretty boy."

oOo

**Chapter One**

Remus finds Sirius Black drinking himself into oblivion in a trucker bar off I-15 just outside Salt Lake City almost two weeks after his bounty hits the main channels. It's disappointing somewhat. Remus spent days going over the file he got from his source on Black—not much considering all information on former Special Agent Black is classified by the FBI, but it was enough. More than most hunters had anyway, but then most hunters didn't have one of the best hackers to ever drop out of MIT in their pocket either.

It's possible someone somewhere made a mistake when they wrote the bounty notice, or maybe all that time in prison has turned him soft, but it is almost insulting how easily Remus tracks him down. A former FBI agent wanted for multiple counts of murder and recently escaped from a maximum security prison should be harder to find. Hell, Remus has had bail jumpers who "just forgot" they had court give him more of a problem.

Maybe lady luck is finally cutting him break.

Remus checks the magazine on his gun just in case.

oOo

A trucker with arms like tree trunks and mean smile gets to Black before Remus has a chance. Black is at the bar, working on his tenth whiskey (Remus has been counting) when the man enters. Remus has been sitting in a dark corner of the bar and sipping at his beer, waiting for the right moment to make his move. Or just waiting for Black to fall off his stool. Remus is good with either really.

He looks different than his photos, Remus can't help but notice. His hair is long, falling past his shoulders, and he looks like he hasn't seen the friendly end of a razor in a few weeks. He's taller than his photos suggest, and Remus isn't stupid enough to underestimate the muscle hidden in that deceptively lean body. There are shadows under his eyes.

Remus watches as the large trucker walks straight up to Black and taps him on the shoulder. "You're in my seat, pal," he says, his voice gruff and without an ounce of humor.

"Don't got your name on it," Black slurs back, not even turning to look at the man. "And I ain't your pal."

Remus winces. Stupid. The man fists a hand in Black's jacket and pulls him off the stool. Black's legs fly over his head as he falls to the ground with a loud "oomph" sound. Some people look over in vague interest and others just carry on with their drinks like this is a perfectly normal occurrence—which for a bar like this, it probably is.

The man takes the stool and Remus is worried for just a moment that the man is going to bring the stool down on Black's head before he turns it over. He says, "Does got my name on actually."

Underneath is a name cut into the wood in rough, uneven letters.

"Shirley?" Black reads slowly, and then throws back his head and laughs. "My mistake, ma'am. Seat's all yours."

The stool makes a loud noise when Shirley slams it back on all fours. "Think you're funny?"

"There you are!" Remus rushes to Black's side before he can say anything else stupid and gets himself killed before Remus can collect his half-million. "Been looking for you everywhere. Sorry, sir, er, Shirley. My friend, he's not feeling well. C'mon get up, you."

Remus helps Black stumble to his feet and throws one of Black's arms over his shoulder.

"Your friend's got a mouth on him."

"That he does," Remus acknowledges. "And two eyes and a nose and even a bellybutton—innie if your curious—but that's not the point. We'll just be getting out of here. You have a good night, sir. In fact"—Remus digs in his pocket and drops a few bills on the bar—"have one on me."

Shirley mutters something about out-of-towners their smart-mouths, but he takes his seat and nods to bartender and lets them leave in peace. Remus guides Black from the bar, keeping a firm hand around his waist.

"Awful kind of you, helping a stranger out like that," Black says once the door closes behind them.

Remus shrugs a little. "Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm some kind of hero."

Black says, "No, you're not."

And before Remus can react, Black shoves him hard against the wall, just beyond the light of the doors and windows. A grunt escapes him as Black's arm comes up against his windpipe and his chest is crushed by the weight of Black's body. He reaches for the gun tucked into the back of his jeans but Black beats him to it, thumbing the release and throwing the gun and magazine away in a matter of seconds.

"You've been watching me all night."

Remus shoves a little, trying to alleviate the pressure. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Think I don't know a bounty hunter when I see one?" Black asks, his face inches from Remus's own. Black's eyes are silver in the moonlight and for all he's had to drink tonight, as sharp as knives.

Remus goes a little still. "You know for a second I thought you were all talk."

Black huffs. "Don't go thinking you're some hotshot. You caught me on an off day."

He wonders vaguely what Black might be like on an "on" day. Not many people get the jump on him like this. He pushes on Black's arm and chokes out, "Gonna kill me then? Like you did all them people?"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Black growls, pressing back hard enough to make Remus's eyes water. "You don't know anything about that."

"Know enough." Something dangerous flashes in Black's eyes. Remus tries for a smirk but it he thinks it probably looks like a grimace. "Senator Potter's son and his wife…all those people at the party. Did you kill the kid too? They never did find him. Poor little Harry."

Remus sees the punch coming but can do nothing to block it. Black hits him hard on the jaw, sending him sprawling on the hard pavement. His head is spinning a little, but Black's given Remus the opening he needs. He swings his leg, knocking Black to the ground beside him. Reaching down, he pulls the knife hidden in his boot and lunges for Black before he can get up.

"Don't move," Remus says, holding the knife to Black's chin. Black goes still, but he glares at Remus like he could burn him with a thought.

"Dead or alive, that was what the notice said, isn't it?"

Remus just smiles down at him. "Wanna know a secret about me?"

Black is slow to answer. The alcohol and multiple falls to the ground seem to finally be affecting him. "What's that?" he asks.

"I don't kill my bounties if I don't have to."

Remus removes the blade and punches Black hard in the temple. His head snaps to the side in one swift motion, knocking him out. Remus stands and kicks at Black's leg but he doesn't do more than snore loudly. Out like a light.

Remus brushes the dirt off his jeans and leans down. "And I never have to."


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: **None for this part.

**Notes: **I'm so so sorry for how long this has taken. I am a horrible person. I am going to endeavor to post more frequently. I've tweaked this a few times so there might be a few errors. I'll go through it again later and tidy it up but I'm posting now anyway. Oh, also, I've combined the prologue and chapter one because the numbering system was bothering me. If I lose your review and cannot reply, I'm sorry but I very much appreciate your support! *hearts*

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Black is a large man, taller and heavier than most, and Remus drags him to his car with not a little effort. By the time he has Black stuffed into the backseat, Remus is breathing heavily. He really ought to quit smoking. Pushing that thought aside, he retrieves the pair of handcuffs stuffed into his back pocket and secures Black's hands to a metal bar he bolted to the door for just such purpose. Black stirs, mumbling something faint, but he doesn't wake.

Remus pulls on the cuffs to make sure they're secure and begins rummaging through Black's pockets. He finds three hundred dollars and change, several newspaper clippings, and an envelope addressed to Black. Remus peeks inside but it's only a handwritten letter. He doesn't find a single weapon however. And…huh. Remus figured a guy on the run like Black would be packing some kind of heat. If not a gun then a switch blade or something. Maybe Black really has lost his touch? But then he did break out of prison, and, until very recently, avoided all manner of federal agents and bounty hunters for almost three weeks. Remus reminds himself not to underestimate this man.

Job done, Remus stands back to allow the enormity of what he is seeing land on him. Sirius Black is handcuffed in the backseat of his car. Sirius Black, mass murderer, worth more than all the bounties Remus has ever rounded up is handcuffed in the backseat of his car. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin's one way ticket to a life free of debts and grueling hunting is fucking handcuffed in the backseat of his fucking car.

He almost can't help the smile that breaks across his face as he punches the air in victory.

oOo

When Sirius wakes his head is pounding like he's gone twelve rounds with the prison guards. He doesn't open his eyes but he can feel soft leather beneath him and the slight sway of movement. The temptation to drift back off into oblivion is great, but something reminds him whatever this is, it is not part of the plan. He opens his eyes and almost slams them shut again when his vision swims sickeningly. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus. He sees the roof of a car. It's dark but he can see bits of upholstery are peeling away in places. Outside of the rear window he can see moonlight peeking through pale blue clouds that are floating past as the car speeds down a dark highway.

Slowly he tries to sit up but he is hindered by something around his hands. He blinks and pulls and hears the sound of metal rattling against metal. Silver handcuffs are secured to his wrists and looped through a metal bar soldered to the frame of the car. "Shit," he mutters, and pulls again in vain. "Fuck."

From the front of the car an annoyingly chipper voice says, "Have a nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?"

It takes a moment for everything to come back to him. He'd been drinking, something he probably wouldn't have done had been in his right mind, but it had been a bad fucking day. Then there was that dickhead at the bar and then…Sirius thumps his head against the window and immediately regrets it. God damned bounty hunter.

He leans forward and says, "Where are you taking me?"

Sirius catches a flash of brown eyes in the rear-view mirror before the man answers. "Three guesses."

"Azkaban," Sirius says, but mostly to himself.

"Winner winner chicken dinner."

"Why go to all the trouble of driving me back? Why not just call the feds?"

The other man actually turns to look at him. "Are you joking? Do you know how many hunters are listening in on secured lines? I'd have someone swooping in to take you from me like that," he says, snapping his fingers. "I worked too hard to let that happen."

"Please." Sirius huffs out a laugh. "You got lucky."

"Says the man currently handcuffed in my backseat."

Sirius would like to argue some more but it's pointless so leans his head back and lets his eyes fall shut again. Perfect. Just perfect. He has one moment of weakness and some lucky fucking bastard nabs him with his pants down. Fucking great.

The man doesn't seem to expect more conversation so Sirius takes several minutes to think. His pockets have been emptied but he thinks he can still feel the lock pick in his boot. He shimmies around a little under the guise of getting more comfortable and he presses the heel of his left foot into the floor of the car. He feels a hard lump press reassuringly back into the sole of his foot. But there's no way he can retrieve it and pick the lock without arousing suspicion.

Maybe he can fake being sick? Or really be sick. His stomach isn't exactly settled from all the drink. Sirius mentally shakes his head. He's still drunk and it's dark. The other man has the advantage and he can't miss his chance by rushing things. He'll have to wait until morning at least.

Or he could try talking to the guy. Sirius peeks through his lashes at his captor. He doesn't look like the sort of alpha male bastard that rounds up bounties for a living, that's for sure. No muscles bulging from too short shirtsleeves. No goatee or tattoos or douchey sunglasses. He's slim, with neat, brown hair falling around his ears, and he's wearing jeans and a plaid button down. He looks completely unremarkable. If he hadn't felt the strength hidden in that deceptively lean body or seen the determination in his eyes, Sirius would think the guy was playing some kind of joke. Which is probably exactly where he made his mistake.

He's young too. Too young for this sort of business. Then again, Sirius is hardly one to talk. Not even thirty and already a rap sheet a mile long. Not that any of it is his fault but no one will believe him anyway. Why would this baby bounty hunter be any different?

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Sirius clears his throat. "Um…I'm sorry I didn't get your name when you were knocking my head around back there."

There is a short pause as brown eyes flicker to him once more. "Lupin," he says after a moment. "Remus Lupin."

"Okay, Remus, listen. You're making a mistake."

"Am I?"

"Yes! I'm—I'm not what you think I am."

"Is that so? Let me guess. You're innocent? It was all just a misunderstanding? You'd never hurt anyone?"

Maybe this won't work after all. He wonders vaguely how many people have tried this approach with this man. Probably a lot. Sirius sighs and says, "I'm not innocent."

"Okay," Lupin says slowly. "So what then?"

"Look, I know what you probably think of me. I know the evidence is against me, but I didn't kill those people, and I never would have killed James or—" Sirius breaks off because thinking of James and Lily hurts still, even after all these years. "That doesn't matter. What matters is it's happening again. You have to believe me. A lot more people are going to get hurt."

Lupin "hmmms" but doesn't say anything else. Silence stretches for several tense moments before Sirius slumps a little and says, "You don't believe me."

"Of course not," Lupin says, not even glancing back at him.

"Yeah," Sirius says quietly. "Why would you?"

They don't speak again after that. Okay, so Plan A failed pretty epically. He'll have to fall back on Plan B and hope he gets a chance tomorrow to make a break for it. Sirius settles himself into a comfortable position and closes his eyes. Might as well get as much sleep as he can for now.

oOo

Remus has put about 80 miles between them and the bar he picked Black up at when a long yawn forces its way out of his lungs. His eyes slide to the dim numbers above the tape deck. 2:42 AM. He's had nothing but a handful of hours of sleep for the last two days. Once he got his tip on Black he hit the road with nothing but a few energy drinks that tasted like piss but kept him going. He's still coasting on the remnants of adrenaline, courtesy of the thrill that comes with the chase and the capture; but underneath he's dead tired and it's a twelve hour drive to the port that'll take them to Azkaban. He can't stop just yet.

He glances in the mirror at Black but his eyes are closed in sleep. Or pretend sleep. Remus hasn't ruled it out.

He frowns a little and tries, yet again, to wrap his head around this man. Part of him is still surprised Black tried to talk his way out. Sure, Remus has had petty bounties plead with him, but this guy is supposed to be different. Remus just can't get past the way he said "I'm not innocent." No one who has ever tried to talk their way out has said that.

There is a story there, and Remus would be lying if he said wasn't curious. According to the file he got, Black was practically genius. He flew through school with top scores. He was the most promising agent to join the FBI in years according to a statement that came from Black's recruiter after his imprisonment. Why did he throw it all away? Someone doesn't just decide to kill more than a dozen people for no reason. Why did Black do it? Was he provoked?

Remus shakes his head. He wants to know more. But that's a dangerous path to go down and he knows it, so he keeps his questions to himself. The more he engages with Black, the more he'll being to sympathize and that simply cannot happen. Black is a criminal. An interesting one, sure, but a criminal all the same. He belongs back behind bars.

That and Remus needs this bounty. He isn't quite so self-righteous to forget he has a vested interest in turning Black in. Truthfully, Remus thought he'd never be able to pay his debts off. Honest work is hard to come by for a man like him and hunting is exhausting work. He's tired of always being on the road. He's tired of dealing with low-life crooks and men who deserve far worse than a stint in a county jail. He's tired of the looks he gets from "real" law enforcement officers who think they're better than him because they wear nice uniforms and have never had to do what they had to just to survive.

Even with the money he'll get from Black he'll still only have enough left over to get himself far away from the men who are still keeping him prisoner. When he lets himself daydream Remus thinks of a place he'd like to go. Some place quiet. Not a lot of people. Maybe a small house near the sea where he can spend the day lounging in the sun. He can fish for his dinner and no one will bother him because he keeps to himself. No more hunting, no more nights spent in sketchy motels, no more criminals. Just peace. He thinks he's earned a little.

Another yawn escapes him and Remus rolls his neck and resolves to stop for coffee at the next gas station. Once he's cashed in his chips he can sleep as much as he wants.

oOo

The next time Sirius wakes it's to the sound of guitars and drums blasting from the stereo. He groans as the sound sends a pounding through his head and he is surprised when the volume lowers.

"Sorry," Lupin says, sounding far too happy and alert for…what time is it anyway?

The sun is bright and Sirius winces when a sharp pain lances through his skull. The world spins a little when he sits up, and he takes some time to assess how he's feeling. His head hurts but that's what happens when you chase a bottle of whiskey with a punch to the face. When he turns his head he can feel a twinge in his neck from how he slept, slumped against the side of the window, and his arms ache from being held up by the handcuffs all night. He's also incredibly thirsty.

Sirius wiggles his foot, feeling the lock pick slide to the side of his boot. He wonders if he might have missed his chance while he was sleeping. God, he's fucked if he doesn't think of something soon.

Outside the car window he can see miles of desert sand and brush flashing past. "Where are we?" he asks, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.

"Outside Reno," Lupin says, cracking the window and lighting a cigarette.

Warm Nevada air brushes across Sirius's face. He takes a deep breath. "Not long now then," he says, and he doesn't mean for it to come out so regretfully but it does.

Lupin blows out a cloud of smoke and says, "Nope."

"So what are you going to do?" Sirius asks, irritated at how glib the other man can be. He's about to throw Sirius back to the wolves and he isn't even the least bit sorry. And sure, Sirius gets it on some level. To Lupin, he is a murder. To Lupin, Sirius probably deserves far worse. But he doesn't and he knows it and it's not fucking fair.

Lupin glances over his shoulder briefly, confusion written on his face. "What?"

"With the money?" Sirius clarifies. "Half a million, that's quite a lot all at once. What are you going to do with it?"

"None of your fucking business," Lupin says, taking another long drag.

"Gonna head back this way?" Sirius asks, watching Lupin closely. "Maybe hit Vegas and try your luck?"

"Shut up."

"Oh, come on," Sirius teases. "You're about to sell me back to the feds so I can spend the rest of my life rotting away in a cell. I deserve to know what you're gonna do with the money? What is my freedom gonna buy you, Lupin?"

Lupin is silent but his knuckles are white around the steering wheel.

Sirius continues. "On second thought, you don't seem like the gambling type. Maybe you'll just rent out a brothel and spend a few weeks drinking and fucking yourself stupid?"

"Go to hell, Black," Lupin spits. He flicks the cigarette out of the open window but he keeps the window down. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"That's where you're wrong. I happen to know quite a bit about you."

"Right. Sure you do."

Sirius grins, enjoying the way he has riled Lupin up. "I know you don't like this line of work. Not for the reasons other men do. I can tell because you didn't enjoy fighting me last night." Silence greets this statement and Sirius thinks he's hit the mark. He keeps going. "And you're quiet. You haven't bragged about all the other bounties you've landed. That must mean you haven't landed many, in which case you really did get lucky last night, or you're not proud of the one's you have caught."

He tugs on the handcuffs again and continues. "You have this car outfitted for transport so you take what you do seriously, so that tells me you're smart.

"But you're also young for this sort of thing. How old are you anyway? Twenty-seven?" he asks, but he doesn't really expect an answer. "You can't be more than thirty. So you got into this business for a reason. You needed the money. I'm going to take a guess and say you got into trouble when you were a teenager. Maybe you got mixed up in a bad crowd? You've got a record so respectable work is hard to come by. Tell me, am I wrong?"

Lupin doesn't look back or glance in the mirror. He doesn't really even acknowledge he heard Sirius at all, but his movements are stiff when he reaches for the pack beside him and lights another cigarette. He says, "It's about three more hours until we get to the port. Unless you want to spend it with your mouth taped shut I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself."

Sirius presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. He hadn't meant to do that, not really. But he thinks maybe if he's annoying enough, Lupin will pull over. Maybe step out of the car to get away for a minute or two and then Sirius will have his chance. Silence lingers for several minutes before Lupin switches the music back on. Sirius uses this time to think.

oOo

Remus chances a glance in the rearview and sees Black staring out of the window, looking bored. Like they're friends on a long car trip or something. Like he hadn't just peeled back Remus's skin and poked at everything he keeps hidden inside.

Remus focuses on the dark pavement disappearing under the wheels of his car and tries to shake it off. Black is clever. Remus knew that. It's not surprising he could draw conclusions from observing Remus. That doesn't make it any less unsettling. Remus just has to ignore him for a little while longer.

They don't speak again for almost thirty minutes. A motorcycle that was just a minute ago nothing but a speck in Remus's mirror speeds into the oncoming lane past him, followed quickly by another.

"Shit," Remus mutters when he catches sight of the green skull stitched onto the back of one of the biker's jackets.

From the backseat he hears Black say, "What is it?"

The two motorcycles in front begin to slow down just as a large SUV flanked by two more motorcycles pass him. Remus slows too and pulls off to the side. The entourage in front of him does the same. The bikers dismount and a bald man in sunglasses and a suit and tie steps from the SUV.

Remus so doesn't need this right now.

"What's going on?" Black asks, leaning forward as much as he can with the cuffs holding him back.

"Listen," Remus says, low and quick. "I know you don't want to go back to prison but you don't want to piss these men off even more. Trust me. Just keep your head down and keep quiet."

"Who are they?"

"Death Eaters."


End file.
